Equilibrium
by princesshyuuga01
Summary: He was everything she had decided she didn't want in a lifelong partner. Irony had it that all he was―the good, the bad and the in-between―was everything she needed. Everything she needed to bring life to a state of equilibrium. [Can be read as a sequel to The UnPrized Uchiha]


**Equilibrium;** a state of rest or balance due to the equal action of opposing forces.

OoOoOoOo

Tenten heaved a heavy sigh and raised two fingers to smooth out the creases between her brows. Her stomach would not stop snarling. Howling. Protesting. Seemingly digesting itself and with a not-so-subtle undertone of pain, despite her not being hungry at all.

Suffice to say, dinner, breakfast and lunch remained untouched and frozen in the refrigerator.

She would be called upon to account for the recent increase in leftovers; but tried not to ponder too much on that impending confrontation. Her antics could only trigger one of the two ways her husband reacted to anything; in outrage or apathy. It is often assumed that Sasuke's very limited choice of responses made him a very predictable man. However, such was not the case. After all, everyone expects an active volcano to erupt but no one is ever prepared for the amount of destruction it leaves within its wake.

The door fell open at the slightest turn of the knob and Tenten eased inside. A flood of light poured from the bathroom and into the dimly lit bedroom.

She squinted.

The flare of the overhead light on the granite counter tops was almost headache-inducing.

But contrary to popular belief, the kitchen was not the ex-Anbu's place of solitude, regardless of the fact that it housed plenty of metal and steel.

No.

There was just something about the earthy feel the bathroom that soothed her―reassured her. It was like an archive of old records that played her most precious lullabies—of battles and battle cries.

Of nostalgia.

Its walls were large format tiles of white honed travertine. The ceiling was a busy mosaic of blue and white, the floor made of dull brown tiles with under-floor heating. Green towels were neatly arranged on racks with matching green bath mats and accents.

In some way the particular tones and placement of colours reminded Tenten of Team Gai's training ground; the immense blue skies above, the dirt and patches of grass beneath her feet and the whitewashed barks of the trees around the clearing.

It was the only connection she had to anything remotely related to the shinobi world anymore. A world in which she once thrived.

Sometimes she liked to pretend the spray of the shower was like rain and imagine the wet tiles as the cold ground underfoot. Stepping out of the cubicle and unto the carpets―especially if they somehow got drenched whilst she showered―felt like the squelching of mud and shaggy grass between her toes.

It was pathetic.

To miss something so much when she knew that above all else she was a mother and a wife before she was a ninja.

Tenten stared blankly between the Jacuzzi tub and the walk in shower room, deciding against a prolonged bath. As enticing as soaking in vanilla and jasmine sounded, a quick shower meant a shorter delay in hitting the sheets.

It was a feat to keep her eyes open.

Her weary mind kept conjuring the image of her bed; the soft mattress beneath her, the warmth of the sheets around her.

She had never felt so exhausted in all her years as a Genin, Jounin or even Anbu. Whoever said the civilian lifestyle was a walk in the park deserved to be pierced in the skull with a kunai. She would take S-ranked missions over this, any day.

She stripped down, tossed her clothes into the wicker laundry basket and stepped cautiously into the tub, one frail hand instinctively clutching her midsection. Her free hand fell to the lever and she turned the water on high, letting it beat over her throbbing head in steamy rivulets.

Her stomach heaved again. It felt as if she was suffering a terrible gastric flu.

No, she conceded. A flu was expected to be over in a few days. This would continue for another couple of months.

Half a fucking year to be exact.

And it was all Sasuke's fault.

Everything was his fault.

Curse his soul, wherever he was, Tenten swore and closed her eyes. The heated water soaked into her skin and she leaned against the cool tiles as her weak legs threatened to buckle.

It was never this way when she was expecting Uchito or Reika, she brooded.

Thrice in the past month she had had to be hospitalized and hooked up to saline drips or have nasogastric tubes stuck down her nose for rehydration.

She could barely keep anything down, let alone had an actual appetite. For the most part she had to resort to sipping on ginger ale and munching on crackers for nourishment. This restricted choice in diet left her face gaunt and robbed of its usual rosy glow. While her stomach swelled her limbs lost muscle tone. Each passing minute sapped her strength―each passing hour, her sanity.

It was by far the most uncomfortable experience in her entire life.

Pregnancy.

Sasuke would not be allowed within an inch of her after this, Tenten decided resolutely. She could not risk having this happen ever again. He had better stack up on drinking water because after this came the longest dry spell of his life.

As she rotated her neck to relieve the sudden stiffness of it she marvelled at the pathetic state of her sense of humour. Drinking water? Dry Spell? Seriously Tenten?

The only good thing that came out of this was that she got to spend a lot of time with Uchito and Reika―seeing as though she had been placed under house arrest by none other than Uchiha Sasuke himself.

He could be rather persuasive―controlling, was more like it―when he wanted to. In truth, she had only yielded to the request because she was in no condition to object.

She felt like shit.

She looked like shit.

Years of manipulating weapons taught her a very valuable lesson; dull blades did not go to battle. In the same way she did not like presenting herself before others unless she was in tip-top shape.

The shower curtain ripped back and Tenten didn't flinch. She was too engrossed with the water that cascaded down her body and massaged muscles that had long passed cramped.

"Ten," the voice was a rough, almost inhuman growl. "What are you doing?"

Speak of the devil.

A chestnut brow elevated at the same time she cracked an eyelid, watching him. "I'm rolling in mud," she snapped. "What does it look like?"

When did he get home? She wondered briefly.

Sasuke's eyes raked down the length of her body before flashing back to her face. They flashed with indignance and anger, much like lightning on a pitch black night.

He held back the sneer, barely. "How long have you been in here?"

About an hour.

Tenten watched him as the water ran over her skin like a warm caress. She shrugged in response; certain he wouldn't like the answer.

She really was not in the mood to deal with the wrath she suspected was brewing beneath that stoic mask. The best way to placate Sasuke was to ignore him.

"Ten?" His tone shook her much like he had physically done so with his hands.

Perhaps _"placate"_ wasn't the most accurate of words, Tenten reasoned with herself. Being ignored or having his questions avoided only served to further exasperate Sasuke. But he was not one to give a matter more importance than warranted so he backed down easily when faced with a brick wall.

Unfortunately for Tenten she was of grave priority to him―now more that ever―which meant that no issue was tossed to the side if it involved her.

"I need you off your feet immediately," he hissed out the command, his expression peeved.

The urge to retort, to roll her eyes or do something dismissive was gnawing at her insides. The domineering brute! Only he dared to interrupt her bath. Not even Uchito did this kind of thing!

"Off your feet, now," he ordered.

She learned the hard way that Uchiha Sasuke was extremely macho and old-fashioned. Traits she supposed he picked up from both his parents.

His father, Fugaku, had been the spine of their family, his mother the flesh that facilitated and nurtured the nerves along that backbone to keep it firm and steady.

Make it strong enough to protect.

The cynical side of Tenten thought of it more as ego stroking. But she had been willing to set her own feminist beliefs aside because she knew Sasuke was merely preserving the memory of his parents through his own dynamics with her―his wife.

While he most certainly did not want a damsel in distress for a companion, he did not want someone to challenge his masculinity or dominance. His mother was not a weak woman, at a point in her life she had been a fearsome Kunioichi. It was after Itachi's birth that she decided to leave that life behind and manage the household.

After all, warriors were born and bred in the home, not on battlefields. A true soldier fought not because he despised what lay before him, but because he loved what stood behind him.

A home.

A family.

That was Mikoto's reasoning for stepping down and Sasuke would be damned if he didn't drill the same sentiments in Tenten's head as well.

In truth, by nature she already met the former prerequisite―damsel in distress was a derogatory phrase in Tenten's book. It was the latter that irked her. She was not the submissive type nor did she approve the notion of domestication. She opposed any culture where women were seen as property or had their lives held in the balance by men.

She never saw any of the women she idolized play such a role. And even if they had, they went about it very subtly.

Kunoichis did not get flour and talcum powder on their hands. Sweat and dirt and blood were what stained their palms―coloured their existence.

She was pulled out of thought by a grunt from Sasuke.

"How about you sweep me off it then, Doctor Uchiha?" Tenten suggested dryly, mentally kicking him in the privates.

Over and over again.

Needs her off her feet? Who did he think he was, telling her what to do all the time?

Back then, if Sasuke had followed Sakura around as religiously as he currently follows her medical instructions then Tenten was certain she would've had reasons to be concerned about the two's closeness today.

But she also conceded that if Sakura was on fire and there was no other way to put it out, Sasuke would pass up the opportunity to piss on her. Not because it would be utterly gross but rather for the sake of not putting the fire out.

It was a strange thing.

Their relationship.

Sakura selflessly gave and he selfishly took without gratitude or assurance that he would ever return the favour should she ever be in need of it.

Tenten could not quite wrap her mind around the existence of such a bond―parasitic almost―between two supposed friends. She did what she could however, to let Sakura know that her efforts and involvement was very much appreciated.

"Sweep you off your feet? I would need super human strength for that," he told her savagely.

Tenten's lip parted on a stunned breath.

He did not just go there, she bristled silently.

The silence that rose between them was eerily unnatural, like a dawn devoid of birdsong. Even the running shower was without the sound of water hitting the tiles.

Complete muteness.

It hung in the air, thick and heavy, like a black cloud ready to release torrential rain down on them―well, on Sasuke at least.

Her eyes narrowed. They became rigid, cold, hard. "What are you implying?"

The corners of his lips quirked up. "That I am a weak man when it comes to you," the mockery was mirthless and underlying with self-contempt.

Because deep down, he knew it to be true.

He had to give credit where it was due though, that was a pretty nice save. It probably would've worked on Sakura, or Ino, or Karin or any other woman.

But Tenten's glare did not relent.

Not that Sasuke expected it to. It would've taken the fun out of things if it had. He knew though, that it would last only as long as it took her to think of the most brutal cutting tool she could tear him down with. And after that, the bathroom could kiss anything breakable goodbye. Which could very well be his nose if the predatory way she was looking at it was anything to go by.

He supposed life's way of entertaining herself was by taking retribution in the form of the abuse he had to endure since Tenten fell pregnant. Retribution for his mistreatment of Sakura and everyone else he had ever done wrong.

Karma truly was a bitch.

To his surprise his wife raised a hand―not to smack the living daylight out of him―but to cup his cheek and lean close to press a kiss to his lips.

Sasuke blinked, befuddled.

Off their own accord his hands glided over her and pulled her close to him, disregarding the fact that her body was slick with water and bare, or that he was clothed.

Tenten's hands gripped his waist, his lips opened for her as her tongue pressed past them. A feline growl vibrated from her chest as he met it with his own.

It wasn't a kiss, Sasuke realized. It was a statement. Of his own hunger, his own temptation and of the power she had to let all of those go unsated for as long as she saw fit.

"Ten," he husked as his lips tore free of hers, only to be greeted by an open-handed smack that left a red welt behind.

The impact of the slap echoed off the bathroom walls.

Sasuke staggered backwards, clutching his face. There was a small bruise just below his right eye where Tenten's wedding band caught the flesh.

"What is wrong with you?" He grounded out angrily.

She watched as the black of his eyes was devoured by blood-red, and as the iris transformed into lines and dots which took the shape of a symbol she knew so well.

Mangekyo.

Even with pregnancy hormones she was nowhere near as temperamental as Sasuke was. His states had no grayscale, only the polar extremes existed.

But Tenten was not rattled. "Quit looking at me with those eyes unless you want them plucked out."

Sasuke was a hard man to understand and an even harder one to love, she had to admit. It was that small truth however, that assured her what she felt for him was pure and untainted by lust or a need to claim him like a prize.

And no prize he was. Aside from his good looks and power there really was nothing all that special about Sasuke.

He was everything she had decided she didn't want in a lifelong partner. Irony had it that all he was―the good, the bad and the in-between―was everything she needed.

Everything she needed to bring her life to a state of equilibrium.

Together they found balance.

Yin and Yang.

The cautious and the hopeful.

Sasuke was cautious because he knew from experience that even in the purest of hearts there was a seed that could grow into greed and bloom into vanity. A seed that could use fear to gain power. But Tenten was that hope―that hope that even in the blackest of hearts there was still a seed of purity that could grow if nurtured in the right way.

They were complementary.

Like ice for each other's whiskey, taking that keen edge off the hard liquor.

Sasuke's scowl was as dark as the hair atop his head. "I'd like to see you try."

"Hand me that kunai knife and I'll be more than happy to," she indicated with her eyes to the pair that dangled from a loop on his trousers.

His shoulders lifted and fell, unperturbed. "Empty threats."

"The only thing that will be empty around here Uchiha, is your eye sockets," she glowered, forcefully shoving her hands in the arms of her bathrobe as she exited the cubicle. "Where are my fucking donuts? I sent you out three hours ago."

So that was the reason for all the hostility, Sasuke deduced. The fucking delayed donuts?

He couldn't keep up with the woman and her ever-changing cravings. Yesterday it was pickles and ice-cream. The day before that it was half-ripe mangos with salt. What was next? Boiled leather?

"Well they were on the kitchen counter before you started talking to me like I'm some sort of busboy―" he spun on his heels, looked over his shoulders and declared coldly, "―now they're in the trash."

"You wouldn't dare," she dismissed, though there was no doubt in her mind that he was dead serious.

Sasuke was most unaccommodating when it came to emotional pregnant women. Emotional women―period, she corrected herself. No pun intended.

"Aw come on Ice Princess, don't be that way," Tenten batted her lashes at him and pouted. "I'll play nice, I promise."

Thankfully his back was turned or he would have scoffed at the pathetic show he was certain she was making of herself. He shook his head bemusedly, endanger Tenten's donuts and the woman was at your mercy.

Wait a minute. Ice Princess?

What the―

"You obviously don't want those donuts," he told her gruffly and shrugged her off when she snuck up behind him, latched her arms around his middle and rested her chin on his shoulders.

The hot shower had made her skin like warm silk and it glided with tantalizingly ease across his own as he peeled her off him.

He felt heat settle low in his stomach as if it had diffused out of her and into him through his pores. Maybe they ought to take advantage of the privacy the bathroom offered, a familiar stir in his body coaxed on. It was the one place Uchito didn't dare to bother Tenten.

Or so he thought.

There was a soft knock on the door which later opened to reveal his minature self, Uchito Uchiha.

Eyes so dark it was like an endless stretch of the midnight sky. Skin like alabaster and hair like the finest black satin. Perhaps the only thing missing from his face was his father's signature scowl. In its place resided the brightest of grins.

So bright Sasuke fancied it could be likened to sunshine. But he would not get sunburned―would not be felled by something as superficial as cuteness. Beyond Uchito's chubby cheeks and overall peachy facade, Sasuke knew there to be nothing but pure evil. That kid has got him in trouble with Tenten more times than he cared to admit

"Daddy," he gave a surprised squeak. Obviously he hadn't been counting on stumbling upon Sasuke. "Ew have your hairy eyes on."

Scary eyes.

He meant the Sharingan.

It was automatic, the metamorphosis of his eyes to their usual state of bottomless pools of blackness. There were many ways of getting back at Uchito for his cunning deeds. But scaring him was not how Sasuke liked to go about it.

"And what do you want?" he enquired with a slight bite, careful to use his body to block Uchito from peering inside the bathroom.

He did try to though. Sasuke didn't know what the child hoped to achieve by standing on his tip-toes when he was miles away from being able to see over his shoulders.

Tenten was currently changing into her sleepwear. That kind of view was for his eyes only.

"Mommy blade me peas?" he made a face at the pink, sticky substance that was all over his clothes, hands and face. "Or ew blade me?"

Sasuke blinked down at him in confusion. Blade me?

It was not until he took in Uchito's attire that he was able to make sense out of the boy's nonsense. Swim trunks, goggles, flippers (wrong-footed, of course), his rubber ducky in one hand and―

He blanched.

―and an empty donut box in the other.

So that explained the pink jelly.

"Uchito," Sasuke drawled his name in the patronizing tone he reserved only for the brat. "What is that?"

His little eyes followed his father's to the box he held and his grin returned. "Me eave piece a donut fur mommy."

His eyebrows twitched uncontrollably.

Piece of a donut? Out of the half a dozen that came in the box?

Tenten was going to have a fit and he knew the blame would be placed on him for his _'carelessness'_. Uchito was never wrong―never at fault. His sins were always Sasuke's.

He goggled at the infant, every passing second more horrifying than the last as he noted the jelly at the corners of his lips and the powdered sugar on Uchito's tiny fingers.

The sad thing was that Tenten will probably acknowledge the fact that Uchito _"considered"_ her and saved her a piece of donut rather than exact justice and scold him for eating the entire box.

"Blade me peas daddy," he pouted, rocking idly in his flippers and giggling as it made slapping noises against the ground.

Exactly what kind of bath did Uchito plan on taking in such a get-up?

"Is that Chito?" Tenten voice came from behind.

Sasuke tensed.

"Daddy, ill ew blade me?" Uchito nudged him impatiently. "Petty peas."

"Aw, has mommy's knight came to check if she's—" she released a horrified gasp when she looked over Sasuke's shoulders and down unto her messy baby.

But it was the empty donut box that disconcerted her the most.

"What is the meaning of this Sasuke?" she demanded furiously. Her hand made fast work to dispossess him of one of his kunai knives.

The weapon was pressed against his throat before he could react.

"Please tell me those weren't my fucking donuts, Uchiha," her voice was dangerously low but anger was unmistakably pouring through her like a spark to the building.

He was so dead.

In that moment if Sasuke had his katana he probably would've taken Uchito up on his offer and _"bladed"_ him.

* * *

 **A/N: LOL! Of course he wouldn't ;) It seemed Uchito got a superfan from his cameo in "The UnPrized Uchiha" so this fic is to appease that person and anyone else who likes SasuTen ;) This is supposed to be a two-shot but the other half is still in outline phase. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading, reviews are always squealed over. Happy New Year! I hope it's a great one.**


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